I find I'm preaching to myself a lot lately. It's working. The doors are cracking open and I like what I see. Opportunities. No time, but plenty of opportunities. I don't know how, but I get the feeling God is working out a deal with my future and the talent for which He has given me.
Lately, I felt like I lost my Pretty. You know what I mean? Not the outwardly flawless kind of pretty. But the Pretty that makes me smile inside. Giggle. Those shots of energy that colors my world happy and, well, Pretty. I need to write. Daily. I need to be in the midst of my craft on a continuing basis. I need to say, 'hey that's pretty darn good!'
It's been difficult this past year, squeezing in time when I have exhausted my mind and my body in full-time employment. But life took a detour. Now, the thought of finishing what I start excites me to no end. The very idea of losing my Pretty depressed me. I need my Pretty like I need my coffee every morning. A jolt of optimism, a hope realized, a constant source of inner encouragement that everything is going to be okay.
But there comes a time when women like me have to put the past in its place, and not let it infect our future. Move forward no matter the circumstances. I know I'm not broken. A little bruised maybe, a little worn around the edges, but certainly not broken. Every girl needs a little Pretty in her life. And every writer needs Pretty. Otherwise, we don't get very far past the first paragraph.
After I get through this, I'll find my Pretty again. A different kind of "pretty." Like an aged door. Somewhat cracked, the paint flaked off, and a bit squeaky, but a beautiful thing to look at that still works and functions and makes me smile inside just watching it swing open.
My door is open to every possibility God wants to throw my way. That makes me feel Pretty great.
Blessings to you and yours.